


Deleted Scene: Doc Owens Sessions with Dustin

by paladin_cleric_mage



Series: My Heroes Had the Heart [7]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: let me know if you can't view the document -- i think Ao3 is givin me hate on this one!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 22:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15761244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladin_cleric_mage/pseuds/paladin_cleric_mage
Summary: Friday, March 1st, 1985, c.4:00PMFriday, March 8th, 1985, c.4:00PMCorresponds to chapter 58: Jonathan





	Deleted Scene: Doc Owens Sessions with Dustin

They’re supposed to arrive around 4PM. Two boys today, Will, his previous charge, and a new fellow by the name of Dustin Henderson. Now, it isn’t custom for a scientist of his expertise to double as a counselor. Truthfully, it’s unlawful. However, given the unique nature of their experiences, it makes sense for them to speak with someone who can validate them and, frankly, understand their series of both natural and supernatural traumas in a way that invites their walls to come down. Only two today, but Chief Hopper mentioned two more boys, as well as girls, and a couple of teenagers. _Why not give me a hard copy of the whole student body while we’re at it?_ The Chief hadn’t appreciated the joke, but Owens chuckled to himself nonetheless.

If Will is as Owens remembers, he’s anxious, shy. It’ll take probing to figure out what’s going on in that head. At times, Will turns to his mother for words, because he is unsure of himself. Considering he was literally possessed at one point, unstable sense of self is reasonable, and certainly remediable. Hopefully in their work together Will can gain his true voice, like his true sight, which helped stop the Shadow Monster, as the Chief put it.

Preparing for these two, and their respective first sessions, Owens cleans the top of his desk, fluffs the pillows on the short sofa in his office, opens the blinds and lays out myriad accoutrements on the table. He checks the clock. 3:56. The Chief mentioned Will’s best expression comes through drawing, so he sets out markers, crayons, and paper. Additionally he lays out a collection of stress balls, clay, and those fun little magnetic toys you can shape. Oh, and a Newton’s Cradle-- classic! There’s even a small tray of snacks laid out on a cleared off area of Owen’s desk. Inviting. With the right atmosphere, Owns can get any child to open up.

Not without a sprinkling of luck, though. Dustin is promised to be a tougher nut to crack. According to Chief Hopper, he is jaded and resentful at life, an unruly potential atheist who recently rejected his entire friend group because of a post-loss fallout. Apparently his mother agreed for him to see a counselor far before he agreed to come.

* * *

At 4:15 the Chief arrives with the boys. Owens meets them in the waiting area he’s built outside his office, and invites Dustin in first. He insists Will go before him, so Owens obliges without issue. Their session goes well. When he returns Will to the waiting area he half expects Dustin to have run off. He’s still there, sullen, nose tucked into a well-loved book about quantum physics.

“Mighty fine read you have there.”

Dustin looks up, irritated. His eyes are a marvelous shade of blue-green. “What?”

“ _In Search of Schrodinger's Cat._ Ambitious read for a boy your age.”

“Why would it be ambitious? I can read, can’t I?”

Stumped, he offers his hand. “Doctor Sam Owens. A delight to officially meet you.”

“Yeah, right.” Dustin marks his page and gives a limp handshake. Owens gets the sense that, were he feeling better, the kid's grip would be strong, and the attitude far less abrasive.

“Would you care to come in?”

“Guess I have no choice.” He stands, book clutched to his chest, where a gold chain hangs loosely.

Will whispers, “Just talk to him. He’s cooler than he looks.”

“Thank you,” Owens chuckles. Will’s face turns red.

Inside the office he gestures to the table, and snacks on the desk. “Have a snack or water if you’d like. Sit wherever you’re comfortable.”

Dustin spots the Newton’s Cradle and grimaces. “Can you put that away?”

Owens removes the toy from the table and hides it in a file cabinet. “So, Chief Hopper debriefed me, told me everything that’s gone on since Will went missing back in ‘83, and the tragedy that unfolded a few months after the gate closed.” He sits at the table of toys and props, hoping for Dustin to join.

He does, setting the book on the table. Instead of reaching out for toys, he puts his energy into locking eyes with Owens. “Frankly, I have no desire to be here. I don’t see the point in talking, especially if you already know. My friend died. I witnessed it. His killer should have bled out on the kitchen floor but didn’t. At least he’s in prison for the next six years. Done.” Defensively he folds his arms over his chest.

“It’s horrible isn’t it?” Owens pauses. “What people do to each other, I mean. The way the world around us degenerates just as soon as it’s evolved. Any time we’re ahead we seem to lose, and often times-- in real life, at least-- the bad guys win. In Steve’s case, the bad guy won.”

An expression comes over Dustin’s face that Owens can’t read, aside from obvious anger. Toward him, for speaking of the matter so casually? Toward Billy, for taking Steve away? He wants to press the boy, but that would clam him up completely. Instead Owens takes his favorite blue stress ball and squeezes.

“I can understand why it seems pointless, coming here. We can do other things if you’re so opposed to discussing Steve and your… party, is that right?”

“Yeah, party. What else would we do?”

“Well, for one, you’ve brought quite the title along. Why don’t you tell me about it? Do you have a budding interest in physics?”

“Sure. Science is neat.” The corner of his mouth turns up. “But it’s not very forgiving.”

“No, it’s not,” Owens agrees. “The reality of _un-_ reality is a giant slap to the face, if you ask me.”

Dustin squints, curious. “Why?”

“If the existence of everything, including the tiniest fragment of a molecule, is transient, then everything is inherently meaningless.” He scoffs, “I mean, you wanna talk about pointless, why bother studying such a deceptive thing? Why poke and prod something that isn’t going to give answers so much as it’ll antagonize?”

“Antagonize?”

“Last year my nephew passed away of a drug overdose.”

“Jesus. I'm sorry.”

Owens holds a hand up to say _it’s fine_ , though it isn’t. He misses the young man terribly, but he must cut to the chase. “After he died I was incredibly angry. At God, if He’s out there, and at the universe, which definitely, without a doubt, exists. At least as far as my senses can tell. I wasn’t just upset because I missed him, but because, if these theories about quantum physics and infinite possibilities-- realities co-existing on different planes simultaneously-- are true, then… Why can’t I travel to the version of reality in which my nephew is still alive?”

Dustin slumps back against the chair, eyes wide. He opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, then closes it and shakes his head.

He stares at the table top for some time and finally says, “I can’t talk about this anymore.”

* * *

Their second session, the following week, begins more successfully than the last. The boy sits at the table and plays with a little mind teaser puzzle. Two nails twisted together. He separates them within seconds. The book is nowhere in sight. Must have left it at home, and though Owens is yearning to know what ticked in Dustin’s mind last week, he doesn’t ask.

The boy rattles the completed puzzle. “I wish the gate hadn’t closed.”

Out of habit, Owens reaches for a ball. “Why’s that?”

“It’s not fair. None of this is fair. We might as well have been swallowed up and thrown into the abyss. Better than existing through all this bullshit.”

“What bullshit is that, exactly? Steve’s death?”

“Yeah, Steve’s death, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.” He shakes his head in agreement. “Extremely _unfair_ , actually. Problem is, in death there are no lawyers or judges. You can’t just set a court date and say, ‘I object! Bring this person back.’”

Dustin perks up. “Exactly! And last week you mentioned how we can’t go into other versions of reality where people never died, right? I got to thinking about El. It’s so stupid that she has all these powers, like she can travel to a different plane in her her mind, and move objects and control people, but she can’t save Steve or bring him back.”

“Well, she’s not God.”

“No, she’s not, so it’s like, what’s the point? What’s the point of having powers if you can’t use them for good?”

“From my understanding she _has_ used them for good. Wouldn’t you say?” He gleans a reluctant nod. “The problem is she hasn’t been able to use them for good, for _you_. She fails to meet your expectations of how she should use her powers.”

“Yeah, she fails.”

“She closed the gate. That was helpful to you as much as everyone else, no?”

Dustin groans.

“So, is this part of the problem between you two? El failed to meet your expectations when it was imperative?”

“Obviously.”

“Good for you to admit it outright. Most people, even adults, can’t do that. The truth about our feelings is always scary.” He rolls the ball on the smooth tabletop. “We can work on that in here. Facing your feelings about El, and about Steve. About your father. If that’s something you want to work on, of course. If not, no pressure. This is just an opportunity for you to grow, and feel better, so you can learn to live with the pain. Ultimately loss is something we have to live with.”

Dustin quips, “We don’t _have_ to, but I get what you’re saying. I’m not just gonna off myself cause my friend died.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“Suicide? Mike would, but I could never.”

“Good. So our choices are either accept the pain and work with it, learn how to live with it in a way that doesn’t hurt us, or, we can hurt ourselves and others.”

“Titillating options, Doc.”

Owens grins and taps the ball. He likes this kid. “You also had a fight with Maxine, isn’t that right?

“Yeah. I told her she doesn’t belong in our party.”

“Your… party?”

“Our troupe in Dungeons and Dragons. Each of us has a purpose. For example, I’m the group’s bard. Or, I was.”

“Before the falling out, you mean.” Dustin nods. “What’s Max’s role?”

“Zoomer.” The boy sets the nails down with a soft _thunk_. “That’s not even a real thing. Our Dungeon Master, Mike, let her choose that title.”

“Is it true, then? She doesn’t belong in your party?”

“No, she belongs.”

“Then what made you tell her otherwise?”

“She said Steve wasn’t my brother.”

“Was he?” Owens ventures, though he knows the answer.

Slowly Dustin shakes his head. “Not by blood. She pointed it out like she’s better than me, like I’m a pathetic stalker. I flipped. Who is she to say that? She moved here at the end of October. She lived in that house with that _monster_.”

“Do you feels she’s a little monstrous by association?”

“I did, but now I feel bad for her. On the way here Will told me the kids at school are still tormenting her, plus her stepdad treats her like shit. I mean, he cut her hair off a few weeks ago.” Owens eyebrows raise. “I know! Part of me wants to talk to her, but that’ll mean apologizing, and I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

He considers this and meets the doctor’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

They share a comfortable silence. Finally Owens probes him. “So, what do you want to do about your friends? Specifically these two girls. Do you want to amend your relationships with them, fold back into the party and continue living? Or would you rather live in your anger, pushing away everyone who clearly still cares about you?”

“When you say it like that it seems obvious!”

“I’m not saying it like anything,” Owens laughs. “If you think the answer’s obvious, that means you’ve _found_ your answer, and that’s a good thing.”

Dustin nods. “I do want to be friends with them again, only, when I’m not this upset all the time. It’s better to avoid them for now than fight with them again.”

“I have to agree with you there. Can’t hide forever, though. If we work on your emotions in here, they won’t get in the way of what you do out there.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that.”

He lets that settle. “So, tell me about your routine. Waking up, going to school, eating, sleeping. Are these the same as they were before Steve passed?”

“Not a chance in Hell. First off, I’m only going to school to get my mind off everything. This week I spent lunch every day in Mr. Clarke’s room.”

“Mr. Clarke?”

“Our science teacher. He’s the best. Set me on a curiosity voyage.” Dustin flashes a smile. What an easy, charming grin. Owens hopes it’ll become a regular occurance.

“In that case, I’m glad he’s there to support you.”

“Me, too.”

“And how’s your sleep?”

“Abysmal. I can hardly sleep for two hours straight without waking up.”

“Nightmares?” He finds that the dreams of those who have interacted with the Upside Down in some way are more telling than the average Joe. Subconscious vomit isn’t always patternless.

“Yeah. Sometimes I’m back in the kitchen, holding his hand. Once, I was holding his guts in place while Billy screamed at the top of his lungs. My ears were ringing when I woke up.” Owens makes a grunt of acknowledgment, and Dustin relays more. “Other times we’re on a big field, and it’s covered in snow. The party’s there and everyone’s having a great time, and I’m coming down the hill on a sled, and I fall off and by the time I get up there’s a spray of blood and Steve is, like, dismembered in the snow, and Billy’s laughing, eating his heart.”

“Was he laughing in the kitchen that day with Steve? In waking life.”

“No. He was out of it, and when he realized where he was he lost it. I don’t know where my brain got it from, but it’s creepy.”

“I bet. Are there other dreams? Ones that don’t involve Billy, or blood?”

Dustin traces memories, then straightens up. “There’s this one, I’ve had it a bunch of times. It’s dark, and then a lighter sparks, and I can see the shape of a face in the light, it’s pale blue. Steve, even though I can’t really see him. He says, ‘Just get ready’. And I’m always asking him, get ready for what? Then I wake up.” He shakes his head. “Thing is, he said that once in real life, before he volunteered to be demodog bait.”

“He told you to get ready, and then did something that could have killed him.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. There’s substance to that, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.”

For the next half hour they discuss dreams, circling back to El and her powers, and breaching the story of Dustin’s father, who passed years ago in a motorcycle accident. Satisfied with their progress, Owens regrets wrapping up the session. However, it’s almost five, and he has yet to check in with Will, who Hopper says has been waking scalding hot from nightmares almost every night. Funny, the effects of a single death, and the things boys decide not to mention.

“We have to end in a minute, Dustin.”

“Really? That went quick.”

“Wonderful!” He stands and crosses the room. From his desk drawer he pulls a blank spiral notebook. “I’d like you to try something for me. I want you to journal, at least once a day, until I see you again next week. Doesn’t matter what it is, could be ideas, fears, dreams. Whatever comes to mind. Sounds crazy, I know. Try it for me, would you?”

He offers the notebook and Dustin takes it, standing up. “If it’ll help me figure out what the hell broke inside me, it’s worth a shot.”

 


End file.
